The Man Who Owns You
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Sebastian is sore over losing his sub - the sub he was starting to fall in love with. Mourning the man's marriage over a couple of beers, he sits on his couch to sulk…when someone unexpected shows up at his door. Kurtbastian. Dom!Sebastian sub!Kurt. Kurt H. Sebastian S.


**A/N: Warning for Dom/sub, angst, and infidelity. Not Blaine or Klaine friendly.**

 **Inspired by this post - post/130041262194/violent-rape-fantasies-you-may-have-married.**

 **Note - this is not necessarily something I agree with in practice, but it's a part of D/s. I know a lot of people who have this arrangement. They don't come about it this way, but that's what makes this a story.**

Sitting on his couch, alone in his apartment, Sebastian opens another beer. This is only his second, but he has a whole six-pack of pale ales sitting on the floor by his foot, and beside it, another, as of yet, untouched six-pack. He was only going to have the one beer and then call it a night before he caught sight of the microwave clock in the kitchen, and the time - 9:18 p.m.

By now, Kurt has already boarded flight 1873 to Tahiti, accompanied by his pompous, perckerhead of a husband.

That's when Sebastian went back into the fridge and grabbed the whole six-pack.

Then the second one.

Shirtless and in his sweats, straight out of the hot shower he thought would burn his memories of Kurt away, he planted his ass on the sofa and decided to drink himself stupid, while watching whatever show popped up on Fox – the national sponsor of all things stupid. He turns to the TV Guide channel and looks at the lineup.

 _The Simpsons_

 _Bob's Burgers_

 _The Simpsons_

 _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_

 _Family Guy_

 _The Last Man on Earth_

Okay. Too much stupid.

"Motherfucking shit," Sebastian groans. He switches off his television and tosses the remote aside.

On second thought, maybe he should throw on a shirt and head to a bar, not that the TV shows there will be any better, but he might find someone new to play with – a brand new toy he can spank and tie up and bring to his knees, and then use to fuck his depression away.

He takes a swig from his bottle and drops his head back on the pillow.

It's his own fault. He shouldn't have gotten attached, shouldn't have gotten involved. He knew better. But Kurt wasn't like his other subs. He didn't need complete domination. He didn't want to be humiliated, wasn't looking to break out of any shells or experiment with the taboo. He just needed a little direction. A firm hand. A way to loosen his tie, break down his walls, and find some release. He needed something he wasn't getting from the guys he found on , or from the speed dating crowd. He wanted more than first dates and polite conversation, capped off with chaste kisses at the door at the end of the night. He'd had enough of that. He wanted edgy, and Sebastian gave that to him. He wanted to relinquish control, and Sebastian took it from him. He wanted to experience a world of pleasure through pain, and Sebastian was more than happy to oblige.

As far as Sebastian knew, he was Kurt's one-and-only…until Dr. Blaine Devon Anderson, OB/GYN extraordinaire, showed up.

And this is the part where Sebastian acknowledges the fact that he's acting like a whiny bitch.

Kurt and Sebastian weren't dating.

Kurt had gotten Sebastian's info from a friend, and contacted him.

Sebastian provided Kurt a service.

Kurt went to Sebastian solely for his domination.

Kurt went to Sebastian for his care.

Kurt and Sebastian weren't dating.

But after months of dominating Kurt, Sebastian wanted to.

He told Kurt. He made it an event – bought him roses, took him out for an expensive meal, showed Kurt the town the way _he_ loved it. He took Kurt to the observation deck of the Empire State Building, and under a full autumn moon, told Kurt that he thought he was falling in love with him.

Kurt smiled. He put a hand to Sebastian's cheek. Then he told Sebastian what he'd been trying to tell his Dom for weeks.

Kurt and Blaine had gotten engaged. They were getting married.

Then Kurt caught a taxi and left Sebastian.

Sebastian didn't see or talk to Kurt again, and one tense month later led to tonight – Kurt on a plane, flying toward a tropical getaway with his shiny new husband, and an equally shiny titanium ring on his finger; and Sebastian, sinking into his sofa, sucking down Sierra Nevadas, and hating life.

Maybe he should book himself a vacation, get out of the city for a while. Lord knows he hasn't treated himself to one in forever. He might even consider going to Tahiti.

What was the name of that resort Kurt said he and Blaine would be honeymooning at?

 _Knock-knock…knock-knock…_

Sebastian hears the pounding on his door ricochet inside his brain. No, he hasn't drunk enough beers to make him even remotely buzzed, but he hasn't really been taking care of himself, either. The man you love marrying someone else will do that to you. He doesn't think he's drunk more than eight ounces of water since he woke up that morning, and his head was throbbing from dehydration long before he made the stellar decision to become inebriated.

He hears another knock on his door, and groans at the stabbing sensation it creates in his temples.

"Whaaaaaaat?" Sebastian hollers from the couch, which feels absolutely agonizing. He waits for a response, but gets nothing, and figures he lucked out. He scared whoever it was away.

 _Knock-knock…knock-knock…knock-knock-knock…_

Ugh. Not even close, apparently.

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses. I'm coming," Sebastian lies. He's not coming. He doesn't stand up. He doesn't want to get off the sofa. If he sits still and quiet, the person at the door might think he got lost on the way to the door…or that he died. Or that he doesn't give a shit, which he doesn't. Either way, there's nothing in the world that's going to get his ass off the sofa, bar none.

"Sebastian?" _Knock-knock-knock._ "Sebastian…Sir?"

Sebastian's head pops up at the sound of Kurt's voice, the world spinning in three different directions and then splitting his head down the middle as his headache becomes a migraine.

"Sebastian?" _Knock-knock._ "Are you there, Sir? Please, open the door?"

Alright…that _might_ get him off the sofa.

"Please, Sebastian, Sir. I need to talk to you."

Sebastian doesn't _want_ Kurt to need him, but the prospect intrigues him enough to move. He rises to his feet. He's not sure he believes that Kurt's actually there, that it's not someone else and he's just hearing something that he wants to hear. But curiosity keeps his feet shuffling across the living room floor.

The person outside who might be Kurt knocks again lightly, and another soft, "Sebastian…Sir?" follows. Sebastian unlocks the dead bolt and opens the door. He hasn't decided whether he's hoping it _is_ Kurt or not. Of course, this could be an elaborate fantasy, some sort of revenge thing his mind cooked up, the opportunity for his subconscious to tell Kurt off once and for all, maybe by proxy. But Sebastian opens the door, and there he is. Sebastian can't believe it. He fucking can't believe it. He sees with his own eyes, and he still can't believe it.

Standing in his doorway, with his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of him, and still wearing his tuxedo, is Kurt.

Sebastian's first impulse is to step back and invite him inside, but he doesn't. Sebastian is angry, and he stands his ground, ready to tell Kurt to shove off, or to make him sleep outside his front door, however this pans out.

Kurt's the one who left, he tells himself. He has to remember that.

Which means Sebastian has no obligation to welcome him back into his home, or his life.

"I thought you guys were on a plane to Tahiti," Sebastian says instead of hello.

"We were, Sir," Kurt replies, discouraged by the sarcastic and uncaring tone in his former Master's voice. "But that's been…postponed."

"Ah," Sebastian says without sympathy. "Another medical emergency, I take it."

"A C-section," Kurt explains, "premature, and with complications, Sir."

Sebastian wants to snap at Kurt, admonish him not to call him _Sir_ , and remind him that he no longer has the right, but he's quite enjoying seeing Kurt grovel this way, unsure whether Sebastian will accept him back even though he's behaving the way he should, following all the rules and minding his manners. It would serve Kurt right if Sebastian strung him along and then sent him on his way after.

But that's not the type of dominant Sebastian is. That's not the _man_ Sebastian is.

"Well, you were the one who wanted to marry a sophisticated, _wealthy_ doctor," Sebastian says, hypocritically since he himself lives off of a rather sizeable trust fund. It's the excuse that Sebastian made himself believe, since he didn't want to admit there might be other reasons why Kurt didn't love him back.

"I didn't marry him because he's wealthy, Sir," Kurt insists. "I married him because I love him. But I thought he'd change. I thought he'd make me more important than his job, than his patients, for one week, at least."

"Dr. Blaine Anderson, savior of the Upper East Side?" Sebastian chuckles. "Not likely." Sebastian crosses his arms and looks at this man who was once his sub, standing in submission at his doorstep. "So, if you love Mr. Incredible so much, why are you here?"

Kurt, staring at his shoes, doesn't see the way Sebastian eyes him with contempt, but that doesn't make answering him any easier.

"I'm here because I need you, Sir," Kurt admits quietly.

Sebastian smirks, triumphant at that admission. Triumphant over Blaine, and triumphant over Kurt. But mostly triumphant because Kurt says it with no hesitation, and even if he had stammered over his words a bit, he's here. He came all the way here to say them to Sebastian, to risk rejection from his former Dom. And because, even after Kurt found _perfection_ , his supposed soul mate, Sebastian can do something for him that Blaine can't, and it's important enough to Kurt to bring him to Sebastian's door.

But Sebastian's not just going to give it to him. The limits haven't changed, but the rules have, and this time, he's going to make Kurt work for it.

"What is that?" Sebastian says, leaning in with his hand cupped to his ear. "I can't quite hear you."

Kurt clears his throat, standing up straighter, but with his eyes still on the ground.

"I need you, Sir," Kurt repeats, shoulders trembling, starting to doubt that Sebastian will take him back and give him what he needs.

But those words are the ones Sebastian wanted to here. He'll continue this game, but inside, where he can take his time with Kurt, properly punish him for what he's done, and patch up his wounded pride.

"Get inside," Sebastian says. "You know where you need to be."

Kurt walks past him slowly, pulling at the wedding ring on his finger. Sebastian slaps his hand hard.

"No, no, no, princess. You're going to keep the ring on," Sebastian says, "and the tux." He grabs Kurt by the shoulder and turns him around. Kurt shudders at Sebastian's touch, gasping softly in fear and relief. Sebastian pinches Kurt's chin and raises his face, staring into his eyes, wet from crying, red veins branching out in whites burned by his tears – probably hours of them. "I'm going to tie you up, princess. Tie you to my bed and spank your ass red in this tuxedo. Then when I bend you over and take you from behind, you're going to look in my mirror and watch." Kurt's lower lip trembles, but Sebastian's not about to give him permission to speak. "You don't get to pretend, princess. Not here. You're going to see yourself for exactly who you are. And you're going to remember that maybe you traded me in for a rich doctor" – Sebastian winds his fingers into Kurt's hair and pulls sharply back so he can hear Kurt whimper. It's a beautiful sound, like music to Sebastian's ears – "but I still _own_ you."


End file.
